The hyena had been moving along a path between the Bone Fortresses and her Bone Pile, hauling along a particularly pleasing bone she'd picked from the interior wall of one of the old bone-buildings. It looked like a shoulder-blade, to her, though she couldn't be sure--it was thick, broad, long, and very heavy. In fact, it was a rather difficult bone to carry, and at first she had had to drag it a bit before finally managing to balance it in her powerful jaws. It would be a shame to scratch it up, after all.

When she heard her name called--bright and cheery--from above, she paused and turned to peer up, nearly losing her balance as the heavy bone swung about. She blinked dark-pool-eyes in surprise; now here was something the seer had not foreseen.

That is the little bird, the one who knows Aza'zel. The one who grows death, too.

Giggle gently lowered the heavy bone to the ground, and chortled a soft, chuckling greeting to the bird.

"Little-bird," she greeted Bevy--having forgotten the bird's name, and anyway, she'd called her Little-bird in the past. ...But what had her name been? "B.. Bav... Bat--..." Giggle squinted, the heavy bone at her paws. "...Bavy...?"

I wonder if she's seen Aza'zel?

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Roll the bones.

Giggle tilted her head as the bird talked, watching her closely.

I didn't hear her speak all that much, but--... Doesn't she sound different?

She shook her head, briefly. Surely there weren't two black-and-red birds, who knew her magic, who were called Bevy.

"I am bringing it to the Bone Pile. My Bone Pile. Don't move the bones. Don't take them. I can see in them, see things, things that haven't happened yet. Better magic. If you want to come, you can come. I am almost there. This is a good bone--a very good bone." She paused, eyeing Bevy.
"Seen Aza'zel?" she asked at length. She then hoisted the large bone in her jaws, glanced at Bevy to indicate that her attention was still on the bird, and continued along the stone path up toward her Bone Pile.

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Roll the bones.

Giggle remained silent all the way up the slope, right up until the heavy bone fell in with the others in a satisfying (to the hyena, at least) thunk and clatter. Then she turned, with the air of someone wiping their hands after a tough task, and eyed Bevy, panting a little.

"The future, yes. I think magic, but maybe just the bones. Good bones have good spirit. Want to help. Have different personalities. Aza'zel is tough, but he is hurt? Does he need help? Where was he?"

She didn't sound concerned--in fact she sounded wholly indifferent--but her intent gaze said she held interest. If Bevy hadn't already known the source of the bone-bird's injuries, she might have assumed that the coldly-questioning Giggle had been the cause. But in truth, Giggle was simply very practical. If bone-bird foodbringer needed help, well then, she ought to help.

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Roll the bones.

Giggle yawned, glancing back at the black-and-red bird and eyeing her over. She remembered her from before, but it only now occurred to her--and she couldn't have quite explained why--that Bevy did not look like something that was good to eat.

The hyena listened without comment to the news about the Bone King, and then to Bevy's request. She glanced forward--it'd be nice to try the Bone Pile with the new thick, heavy bone. Yes, she'd do it--not that she'd ever turn anyone away. The wisdom of the bones should not be restricted.

"Yes, I can do that. The bones will speak to anyone, and all I do is read them."

She padded forward, large round ears perking up, her claws clicking dully on the rock. She circled the pile as she spoke, seemingly inspecting it, or searching it for something.

"Since you're asking how it works... There's patterns in them. I take a bone that's like you--"

And here she leapt forward, toward the pile, snatching up a nearly-intact bird skeleton. It looked like a pelican or the like, but small, as if it had been only half-grown at its death. She tossed this into the air, and then as it fell, seized the wing in her jaws. The rest of the bones fell away, clattering down, but Giggle turned--wing bones clenched firmly in her teeth--and trotted past Bevy. She eyed her as she went by, in a blank and faintly absent sense, as if the bird's presence did not particularly matter--her focus was on the bones. Around the pile she trotted again, and up the boulder which projected out over the pile. Here she sat, leaning down to carefully deposit the wing-bones between her front paws.

She looked down to Bevy as she shifted on her haunches, getting comfortable.

"And then I throw it into the pile. Sometimes there are lines, or arrows, or broken piles; sometimes rays like light or circles like pools of water. Watch. And--listen."

This all now said, she lifted the wing bones back into her jaws, then stood and tossed them down, sitting as they fell. Her eyes were locked intently on their impact with the bone pile, with the bones that scattered about; her gaze flicked between this rattling rib and that spinning vertebra, until all was motionless and quiet once more.

Then, at length, she again spoke. Now her voice--deep in concentration--took on a droning, absent tone, quieter and less focused than before.

"I see stone, and ice, in your bones, little bird. As heat of a passion has fallen away so has change, and all is left cold and unchanging. Such un-change must be worked against, but it is the nature of things--though the way there is slippery. And--And I see violence in your bones, Bevy. Senseless violence, and it comes, perhaps soon. Likely soon. I see erected barriers, collapsing. I see a victory, in your distant future--at the end of the rest of this--but it may come at a great cost. A sacrifice."

Giggle looked up, tilting her head. The bones were rarely so clear as they were now, nor did they often hold such multifaceted meaning. They were direct, in regards to this bird, and they were very specific.

I wonder what all of this means...? What barriers? What violence? What passion? What sacrifice?

But all the hyena said was, "Do you have questions?"

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Roll the bones.

Giggle listened intently to the bird's words. Again, it struck her in a vague, non-urgent way that the bird sounded different than she'd thought. It was odd--but perhaps it wasn't the bleeding-heart she'd thought it to be, before.

She didn't speak, at first, but instead accepted the request without words and gazed back into the pit of bones. When her words did come, they were in the same vague, dull tone, as if her mind were wholly elsewhere.

"It will be difficult. There is a tangle. Many--friends, or family, or others perhaps--who should act as one. Unified. But they aren't. They are split, where they shouldn't be. They're unable to work together, as they should. That is what must be changed."

Giggle looked back to Bevy, her eyes pools of black in the low light. "You aren't getting along with someone? Not working well together?"

This was added in a more conversational and friendly way, as if simply curious about the results, herself.

Her eyes, however, remained unblinking.

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Roll the bones.